


coup d'oeil

by troubled



Series: hard reset [1]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Age Reversal, Alternate Reality, M/M, Older Shim Changmin, Younger Jung Yunho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 06:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17198069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubled/pseuds/troubled
Summary: it's easy to see, if you know where to look.the rest of the band figure out that changmin and yunho are in love. before they do.





	coup d'oeil

**Author's Note:**

> the one where changmin, siwon, heechul and kyuhyun are in the same group. and yunho's their maknae.

 

“Do you think they hate me, hyung?”

Changmin grabs Yunho’s hand and splays it palm up, music sheets crumpling unhappily underneath the awkward angles of their elbows. The tip of his pen is poised above the upturned wrist, over the network of veins and dim light softens the sharp edges of Changmin’s smile.

“No.” There’s music in the background, mellow and lilting and this could’ve been a love story written in vignettes. Could’ve been a lot of things. “It’s not your fault there’s crazy people in this world.”

Yunho bites back a surprised hiss when ballpoint and ink trace characters onto his skin, quick strokes travelling the length of his arm. He cranes his neck for a better look and they’re words in English, with only a scattered few he can understand. Changmin wears a look of concentration on his face, hair spilling over his eyes and his grip burns fingerprints onto the ridges of Yunho’s wrist.

“You’re worried over nothing, maknae.” Changmin pauses and dots his _i_ ’s patiently. “Your voice is fine. You just need more rest.”

Yunho wants to disagree, but Changmin’s blowing air over the last few lines on his fingertips and Yunho is suddenly too busy shivering to stutter out his argument. The AC hums silently above their heads and Changmin spares a few seconds to collect his scattered music sheets, places them onto the bedside table for safekeeping. His arms are soon wrapped over Yunho’s shoulder, legs crossed around skinny waist. Changmin murmurs foreign syllables and rhythm against the back of Yunho’s neck. He smiles at the tiny tremors against his lips, at rapid heartbeats against his chest.

“Trust me, okay?”

There’s a discreet click and the music track shifts, careening into a cacophony of drums and electric guitars and screamings.

Yunho presses his face into Changmin’s arms and dreams of a faceless girl, offering him a bottle of water.

 

*

 

Siwon raises an eyebrow when Yunho shuffles into the kitchen too early in the morning. The coffee’s brewing and they stare at each other from across the small island – Siwon with his bowl of cereal and Yunho with dark blue scribbles on exposed skin. Siwon decides that maybe bizarre doesn’t even begin to describe Yunho.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Not really.” Yunho yawns and rubs shadows from his eyes, weariness obvious from the reluctant curl of his lips. “You’re early, hyung.”

Siwon nods distractedly when the coffee machine chimes and he reaches for two mugs. “I’ve got some meetings today. Coffee?”

He’s awarded with a quick nod, a quicker smile. Yunho drapes himself over the dining table, cheek pressed against polished wood. His eyes are half-closed and they follow Siwon through the motions until a steaming mug of coffee obstructs his view, heat rolling off glazed ceramic. Silence stretches inside the kitchen as Siwon tries to read words etched onto that pale arm without much success. Too small, too intimate and Siwon knows secrets when he sees them. Although Yunho had never kept them from Siwon before and he wonders if something has changed. If he’s now out of the loop.

Yunho hums quietly, eyelashes fluttering.

“I smell coffee.”

“Good morning, Changmin.” Siwon bites back his questions in time, smiles at Changmin and stands up to clean his side of the table because he’s on a pretty tight schedule, already ten minutes late. The clatter of bowl and mug hitting the sink doesn’t quite obscure the screech of chair as Changmin sits next to Yunho. “Going anywhere today?”

“Don’t think so. I’m writing some lyrics.”

“And maknae?”

Yunho’s hums pitch louder for a second. Siwon laughs as he dries his hands.

“Maknae’s helping me.” Changmin sounds amused and Siwon turns to see Yunho mouthing words at Changmin. They could have been anything and everything, but Changmin seems to understand when Siwon doesn’t. “He wants doughnuts. Strawberry jelly and custard.”

“I might be late. You guys should get something to eat first.”

Changmin waves at Siwon, picks up one of Yunho’s hands to do the same and, in a horrible imitation of Yunho’s voice, chirps, “Thanks, hyung! I love you!”

Siwon closes the door to the sound of muffled laughter and Yunho’s mock-indignant yelps. He arranges his cap and trudges down the stairs, taking two at a time and the manager had already texted him twice; _hurry and get your ass here thanks_. It’s only halfway through his second meeting that Siwon realises he knows the handwriting smeared across Yunho’s arm.

Oh. Siwon thinks. _Oh._

 

*

 

Kyuhyun wakes up around noon and frowns at Changmin and Yunho when he finds the coffee pot empty. They’re curled up on the sofa, toes peeking out from underneath crumpled blankets and Yunho has his head on Changmin’s shoulder, lashes casting half-moons shadows on his cheeks. As Kyuhyun gets the coffee machine going again, he hears Changmin humming a disjointed tune to a documentary’s monotonous narration. It sounds like a lullaby, almost like a love song and Kyuhyun rifles through the cupboard for some cereal.

“What’re we watching?”

Changmin presses a finger to his lips. There’s ink underneath his nails, smudge of blue on pale skin. “Shhh… maknae’s sleeping.”

“I have eyes, I can see,” Kyuhyun mutters. He plops onto the sofa, crosses his legs. “We should get him to bed.”

“It’s alright.” Fingertips brush errant hair from Yunho’s forehead, fleeting touch over closed eyes. As if Changmin’s trying to chase away nightmares. “He just fell asleep.”  
  
Kyuhyun can almost see the possessive curl of Changmin’s fingers around Yunho’s waist, and this is one of those times when he wants to tell Changmin to dial it down a bit. Because the cameras are no longer rolling and they aren’t put on display twenty four seven _thank god_. Because maybe Yunho doesn’t want to be a mannequin constantly poised to play dress up in too-close hugs and too-intimate smiles, always at the mercy of Changmin’s whim.

Kyuhyun wants to tell Changmin to _let go_ , before Yunho suffocates and breaks.  
  
“He’s been having nightmares lately.”  
  
The whisper surprises him and Kyuhyun reels back from his thoughts, cocks his head towards Changmin in question. “What?”

“Yunho,” Changmin clarifies with a roll of eyes and they spend a second staring at Yunho in mutual silence, television finally on mute. Kyuhyun wonders where Changmin has hidden the remote. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Kyuhyun sees the frown on Changmin’s face, the downturned lips and it comes to him as a sudden understanding of the inevitable. He doesn’t know how he could have missed it when it’s so, so obvious. “You can’t fix everything.” The glance sent his way is anything but genial. Kyuhyun shrugs it off with a grin, carefully arranges his shoulder as to not disturb Yunho with his movements. “It happened. He’ll be okay.”

It’s not an answer that sits well with Changmin. Kyuhyun watches as Yunho burrows deeper into Changmin’s side, muttering into warm skin and faded fabric, an arm flung carelessly across Changmin’s stomach. It’s easy to see the arch of Yunho’s cheeks pressed against Changmin’s collarbone, perfect jigsaw pieces. Changmin’s fingers curl tighter around Yunho’s shoulder, maybe with heartbeats already in sync.

Kyuhyun sighs, spooning soggy cereal into his mouth _._

 

*

 

“Why do you keep forgetting your keys?” Kyuhyun grouses when he steps out of the taxi, his face halfway swallowed by a scarf and the thick padded neck of his jacket. “You should staple them to your chest next time.”

Heechul shrugs. “Stop bitching and get me inside. My balls are about to freeze out here.”

“You’re a true poet, hyung.” Kyuhyun sidesteps Heechul’s punch, but is quickly distracted when another car pulls over in front of them, only to deposit a slightly rumpled Siwon to their doorstep. Kyuhyun quirks an eyebrow, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Oh. Well, I just—” Vague hand gestures punctuate Siwon’s half-hearted attempt at an explanation that soon lapses into uncomfortable silence. Siwon sighs and shakes his head, lips curving into a self-deprecating smile. “It’s been a long day.”

Heechul scoffs, unsympathetic. “Join the club.”

The door gives way and they march inside, shedding off boots and jackets along the way. Dim light pours over them and the living room, enveloped in a welcoming almost-silence aside from a languid trickle of noises coming from the direction of their bedrooms. It’s a mixture of violins and electric guitars and soft voices, the beats too irregular to be anything poetic and Kyuhyun pretends he doesn’t notice when Siwon’s mouth flattens.  
  
Heechul leads the way, follows the crumbs of sound right to Changmin’s room. The door is ajar, just a crack and there’s a glimpse of Changmin with his head on Yunho, nestled between folded knees and pillows. The beats filter through and Yunho sings verses with a crooked grin on his face, head bent towards Changmin as if he’s been doing that for years. Changmin nods along and mouths out lyrics, hair branching over the spread of Yunho’s legs. Siwon realises in a heartbeat that his smile isn’t the glass and glitter Changmin reserves for the stage.

Yunho looks up, halfway into giggles at something Changmin had whispered and freezes when his eyes meet Heechul’s. It could have been a lifetime, maybe sixty seconds of epiphanies, but the music clicks to a stop. Heechul blinks, fingers already wrapped around the doorknob. Kyuhyun mostly tries to shrink into the shadows.

“We’re home!” Siwon says in a rush, grinning widely and a firm hand on Heechul’s back as he pushes his way into the bedroom. He finds a niche on the bed that isn’t occupied by limbs and papers and drags Kyuhyun besides him, as Heechul’s mouth stretches into a knowing smirk. He’ll worry about whatever it is brewing inside Heechul’s head later. “What’re you working on?”

Kyuhyun’s fingers trace the music sheets, his eyes flickering to Yunho and Changmin. “Is it a song for the next album?”

Changmin rakes his hair back, smile firmly in place. Kyuhyun knows him long enough to hear the cracks in his voice. “Ah… not really. Just a personal project.”

Heechul’s eyes narrow. He grabs one of those sheets and reads through them. “It’s a duet, isn’t it?”

Yunho blinks and bites into his bottom lip, always the transparent one between them and Kyuhyun wonders if he would have fled if it isn’t for Changmin’s head on his lap.

Changmin hides behind his laugh and his knuckles nudge Yunho’s knees.

“Sort of. I just need to find someone to sing it with.”

Kyuhyun rubs a thumb over the love letters hidden in verses and melodies, almost too perfect to be real. “Seems like you’ve already found it, Chwang.”

 

*

 

There’s a soft knock on the door and it inches open. Yunho peeks inside, teeth worried over his lip.

Changmin takes off his glasses and frowns. “Why are you still awake?”

Yunho closes his eyes, tries to forget the taste of juice and slick blood clawing at the back of his throat. He can’t, not really. “Nightmares.”

“Or maybe you just miss me?”

Changmin’s voice is teasing, but he marks the page he’d been reading and puts the book on his bedside table. He beckons Yunho closer, pulling him into bed with him. They’re curled together, cocooned into the safety of tangled limbs and blankets. He whispers comforting nothings into Yunho’s ears until all Yunho can hear is Changmin’s soft breathing and the friction between their skins.

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Changmin kisses a fluttering trail from Yunho’s eyes, over the bridge of his nose and promises _of course, always_ to the corners of his mouth.

“I think I might be in love with you.”

 

*

 

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> i hang out on [twitter](https://twitter.com/voracyous) once in a while. :)


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